


Teeter

by Wary_Cries



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: After the Southern Raiders, F/M, It's real short, One Shot, Reflection, They're on Ember Island, katara tries to figure things out, lil baby one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wary_Cries/pseuds/Wary_Cries
Summary: Katara reflects on her anger and hatred after the Southern Raiders. Maybe the pain doesn't need to have one face anymore.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	Teeter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is my first time sharing a fic. Please, go easy. I'm writing a longer fan fic but it is taking me a bit, and this one shot flew out of me. Not sure if I might write a few more one shots within this series, or just plain add more. But for now, please enjoy. Comments greatly appreciated.

Isn’t it strange how one moment the hatred coursing through your veins is nothing more than an imprint of memory you can barely recall. How the situations occurred, and you remember the heat caused that spiraled you like tendrils, the tunnel vision clouded by the utter rage. The way your head seems to fuzz, a duality of heaviness and lightness,and your mind fighting to gain a sense of clarity. 

Now, these are merely ghosts. 

She had every reason to still harbor those feelings. To allow all the hurt, pain, _betrayal_ caused by him, his _kind_ , circulate through her. But as she watched him attending to their camp, tenderly caring for their little family, she couldn’t find it in herself to keep the rage fueled. 

She was tired. Tired of the anger. Tired of the running. She only wanted to see the end, and what would become, hopefully, a new beginning. For the world. For her. She was so tired of carrying things far too heavy for a girl barely teetering the line of womanhood. Childhood abandoned, long lost at the first sight of ashen snow. 

She had truly gotten to mourn, thanks to him. She had forgiven him, she had told him as much. But there was something else now to mourn, something she never expected to have to deal with, didn’t even know it was there. The loss of hatred for an enemy. For the figurehead she had channeled her anger toward. No, that image was replaced with the Fire Lords of the past, with the pathetic face of Yon Rha before she let him wallow into a puddle of piss and self pity. 

His warmth had sent a new sensation through her as she hugged him after that day. Fire was not just destruction, but passion, determination. Fire coursed through the empty places of her heart, giving her new life.

Their dynamic changed after that. Kindred souls bound forever through unspoken understanding. An aching vibration through her bones when they looked at each other. _He had to feel it too, right?_ His betrayal under Ba Sing Se had left her scorched; only now could she truly understand why it stung so. They always had _this_ , this undeniable connection.

Each of the gAang had found their rhythm with him easily. _Is ours to be this awkward dance?_ Both had tempers of such intensity that only the other could rival; everyone else would cower. Both cared fiercely for those they loved, hence how their roles fell so naturally into the caretakers of the group. The parents, Toph had so poignantly pointed out one evening as Katara and Zuko cleaned up after dinner, Zuko trying to get the others to lend a hand. 

_“Helping out once in a while won’t hurt you.” “_

_I beg to differ, Sparky.”_

The parental comment had frozen them both in place, only allowing them to slowly turn toward each other before the faint imprint of blush crept from their necks and sent them back to hastily finishing their chores. It wasn’t like no one ever helped out, Sokka hunted when needed, but he was mostly the _plan guy_. Aang would sometimes start to but often got distracted by one thing or another. The two of them helping together just led to Katara growing more frustrated as shenanigans arose. Throw Toph in the mix, and Katara would almost vow to never need help again. Suki was good at keeping them distracted and out of her hair. But Zuko, he went about his duties to Aang, to Sokka, but was always there for washing clothes, or dishes, or preparing meals. His few years of roughing it and being slapped with humility hadn’t completely erased his obviously privileged upbringing, but he made no complaints.

Katara was grateful. She wasn’t ready to let him know that yet. Her insides were still far too turbulent to navigate. 

This year had brought so many changes and she hadn’t had a moment to digest any of it. Each day was _how to move on to the next_. Her constant swirl of thoughts couldn’t hinder her, nor the larger picture. Help save the world. Help restore balance. Help. 

The sounds of crashing waves finally penetrated the siege of introspection in her mind. The saltwater-scented breeze cascaded past her, causing her to turn her head in the opposite direction it blew her hair. She spotted him quietly approaching her place in the sand, almost hesitant to disrupt her moment of solitude. The moonlight only heightened the glow of his pale skin. His amber eyes were transfixed to the sand as he awkwardly plopped beside her, careful to leave enough space between them.

He joined her in looking out at the sea, not uttering a word. Never breaking the beautiful quiet only they could experience together. That sat there for a while, just allowing each other to exist amongst the sand and sea and moonlight.

Katara sighed and shuffled over a bit, closing the space between them. For right now, she will let the thoughts rest and she will just be. She laid her head against his shoulder, half expecting him to pull away. But he didn’t. He let her keep her head there, let her place her heavy thoughts amongst his shoulder. He slid his arm around her back, carefully settling between her chest and waist. Light. Again refraining from encroaching upon her space. His delicate hesitancy was endearing. 

“Thank you,” she breathed. He laid his head atop hers. Together they sat as night continued on. Together, watched the endless expanse of ocean dance to the beckoning of the moon.


End file.
